


a dick-sucking venn diagram

by Elendraug



Category: Homestuck
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Consensual Somnophilia, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Frot, Illustrated, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Massage, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Trust, Uninhibited Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:32:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendraug/pseuds/Elendraug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ponies aren’t horses.” Dirk preemptively makes a grab for a blanket and draws it up over his legs, just in case Dave makes any attempts at bedding-theft. “Therefore, her nose can’t be hung like a horse.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dick-sucking venn diagram

**Author's Note:**

> illustrated by a friend. thank you!!
> 
>  
> 
> [♫ HS Vol. 10 - Beatup](https://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/beatup)
> 
>  
> 
> I feel like it's important to state that what I'm intending to depict is an established relationship where trust/consent/boundaries have already been discussed amply and that this is an enjoyable routine experience that they are cool with before, during, and afterward, and I hope I have made it abundantly clear that that's what's going on here
> 
> Always always always talk about consent and boundaries with your partner(s)

“Okay, but dude. Her nose is like, _right_ over your cock.”

Dirk looks down [at his boxers](https://67.media.tumblr.com/b8af3b9b280b58939f825096f542f45d/tumblr_o6h15vLeni1qm5fm6o1_1280.jpg), then back up to Dave, and shrugs. “So?”

“That cannot be a fucking accident. I refuse to fuckin’ believe that _that_ would make it through to manufacturing without being intentional.”

“Then all is as it should be.” He flops down onto Dave’s bed and sprawls out next to him. Rainbow Dash’s face stares up at the ceiling with huge eyes the color of his god tier. The lineart for her nose is, in fact, positioned right above his junk. However, with Dave’s own boxers covered in a cringeworthy pattern of kissy-face and _100_ emoji, Dirk’s certain he’s not the worst-dressed in the room. “It’s a feature, not a bug.”

Dave slips his arm under his pillow to get comfortable, and gives Dirk a look. “If you make anything resembling a _hung like a horse_ joke, I fuckin’ swear I will hog all the blankets.”

“Ponies aren’t horses.” Dirk preemptively makes a grab for a blanket and draws it up over his legs, just in case Dave makes any attempts at bedding-theft. “Therefore, her nose can’t be hung like a horse.”

“I’d do one of those, like, why the long face kind of segues here, except she’s got a hella short face, all things considered.”

Dirk rolls onto his side and settles in beside Dave. “Have you considered that it’s unkind to mock someone’s appearance? Like their perceived lack of a nose?”

Dave lifts a finger to tap Dirk on the nose. “And you’d know so much about lacking a nose, right?”

Dirk tilts his head up to kiss the pad of Dave’s finger, in response.

Dave laughs. “Man, fuck off with being cute when I’m bullying you.”

“You’re merciless,” Dirk deadpans. “These nose boops are really the last straw, here.”

“Like logging onto Facebook for the first time in years.”

“Hm?”

“Yeah, like.” Dave moves his hand to trace through Dirk’s hair, brushing it away from his eyes. “Like you come back, and not only do you have a backlog of archived poke notifications, but they’ve basically shitcanned the concept of poking altogether.”

Dirk closes his eyes and smiles. Dave’s voice is reassuring. “Have they?”

“Yeah, dude. It’s like, it’s still there? But god damned archaic at this point.” Dave slides his fingers through Dirk’s hair, petting him. “Like walking into a ghost town full of ancient aliens waiting to probe your digital presence. Or fuckin’ coming back to Animal Crossing after way too long and finding your shit overrun with weeds.”

“Four twenty, motherfucker.” Dirk shifts closer to Dave and nudges his head beneath Dave’s chin, slips his arm over the muscled rise of Dave’s chest. “Pull weeds every day.”

“See if I don’t make out like a motherfucker who’s awash in riches. Sell a fucking coelacanth for a billion bells,” Dave says, almost incomprehensibly. His voice and his enthusiasm are pleasant to listen to, no matter what he’s talking about. “Watch me digging up creepy gyroid trash and turning a goddamn profit and scaring the shit out of the neighbors, like that raccoon asshole. Make bank on some subprime mortgages to unsuspecting gamers. See who’s the real businessman now, me or Nook.”

“I love you,” Dirk murmurs.

"That rabid fuck, he, like.” Dave’s train of thought wrecks to a halt as his echoic memory processes Dirk’s words. “Hey, dude, yeah. I love you too.” He curls his arm over Dirk’s waist and rubs at the small of his back, where the blanket meets his body. “Fuckin’ uh. You know what I’ve always wondered?”

“What?” Dirk asks, mumbling against Dave’s skin.

“Do you think Mr. Resetti is like, distantly related to Diglett?”

It takes Dirk a second to process this. “Because they’re... moles?”

“Well, yeah. The jury’s out on what the fuck Diglett and Dugtrio actually _are_ but yeah, more or less?” He kisses the top of Dirk’s head and pats his hip, before extracting himself from the hug. “I gotta turn off the lights, you got your phone charger?”

Dirk makes a noncommittal noise.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll plug it in for you.”

Dirk takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and listens as Dave fucks around with various shit in his bedroom and gets everything arranged with the electrical outlets. The lights switch off; Dirk stops screwing his eyes shut quite so hard. “Thanks.”

“You got it, man.” Dave climbs back into bed and untangles the heap of blankets at his feet, then pulls them up, some over just himself, and the topmost over both of them. “So yeah, Nintendo proprietary characters who are vaguely mole-like and show up out of the damn ground to wreck your day, or chide you for cheating the time and date settings like you’re gonna create doomed splinter timelines in your save file.”

Dirk bunches the blankets up to support the space between his knees, and curls closer to Dave. “Yeah?”

“You ever seen that art of like, what Dugtrio looks like beneath the surface?” He rests his arm over Dirk again, fingernails skating lightly across his shoulder blades. “What lies beneath or whatever. I saw one that had it as this three-headed buff dude, buried beneath the strata of the motherfucking soil. Shit blew my mind.”

Dirk breathes out against Dave’s collarbone, and doesn’t say anything.

“You asleep?” Dave asks.

Dirk shakes his head. His hair brushes Dave’s skin.

“Yeah, you’re basically asleep.” Dave pets Dirk’s back as he speaks, and lowers his voice to a soothing volume. “Why don’t I shut the fuck up so you can get some shut-eye, huh?”

“I already shut my eyes,” Dirk mumbles.

“Then go fuck yourself right off to dream land, my dude. Like Kirby. Gotta stick with the Nintendo jokes.”

Dirk kisses Dave’s shoulder. “Kirby sucks.”

“In your dreams!”

Dirk sighs, his lips on Dave’s throat. “Kirby’s not the one who’s sucking, in my dreams.”

“Y’know what? I could go for an extended SBAHJ joke but I’m gonna let this one slide.” Dave runs his fingertips up along Dirk’s shoulder, then back to his face to trace his jawline. “Go for it, man, be the star and suck everybody off in your dreams.”

Dirk shifts upward, his cheek inclined towards Dave’s hand. “Just in my dreams, huh?”

Dave keeps his touch light, gentle, and speaks softly. “Or in real life. Both is good.”

Dirk smiles at him in the dark, their eyes not yet adjusted. He feels Dave move in rather than seeing him as Dave brings his face close to kiss Dirk, his mouth relaxed and lips soft. Dirk kisses him back, completely at ease, glad for his warmth.

Dave pulls off with a few extra quick kisses for good measure, and plants a final one on Dirk’s cheek. “Go the fuck to sleep, you nerd.”

Dirk laughs and rolls over. He pulls a blanket up to his shoulders and curls in on himself, cheek pressed to the pillow. Without much of a wait, Dave scoots his own pillow over to butt against Dirk’s and settles in behind him to spoon him, his arm securely over his waist.

“Goodnight,” Dirk says, and Dave kisses the nape of his neck, halfway into his hair.

* * *

There are several quiet minutes of gentle breathing until they both fall asleep, wrapped in the shared closeness of their covers, and resting on the accommodating give of the mattress. Dirk doesn’t remember the exact details of when he drifted off—no one ever does—but the next thing he knows is that he’s stirred awake again, and the green LCD of Dave’s alarm clock is letting them both know that it’s an ungodly hour in the morning.

Dave’s hard behind him, his arm still slung over his hip, and without thinking about it too much, Dirk grinds his ass back against Dave’s erection. There’s barely anything between them, except for the thin cloth of their boxers, and Dave’s dick slides against the cleft of Dirk’s asscheeks in a gratifying way.

Dave stirs and paws his way across Dirk’s chest, down past his stomach, and over the jut of his dick through his underwear. He’s satisfying to touch, to feel the firm heat of him in his hand, to grip him through the fabric and feel him up as Dirk presses against Dave’s palm, gradually cognizant enough to push forward into his fingers.

“This okay?” Dave murmurs.

“Yeah,” Dirk confirms, breathily. “God, yeah.”

Dirk turns his head back over his shoulder, straining to be within kissing distance, and Dave shifts in to seal the deal and bring their mouths together. It’s sloppy and sleepy, but their lips slide softly against each other as Dirk shifts his ass back. Dave ruts against Dirk’s body as his hand gets a firm grip on Dirk’s dick and works him over, from the head of his dick down further between his legs to cup his balls through his boxers.

“Fuck,” Dirk breathes. “Fuck.”

Dave hums a pleased sound and moves his hand up to Dirk’s chest, to tweak a nipple between his fingertips, until Dirk’s making urgent noises and arching his neck back.

When Dave latches onto Dirk’s neck, alternating between kissing on him and sucking at his skin, Dirk reaches for Dave’s hand and draws it back down between his legs. There’s sweat clinging to his inner thighs, soaked into the fabric of his boxers, and Dave’s palm gropes loosely over him through the cloth. Dirk pushes himself back against Dave, wiggling his ass, eager to be touched.

Dave lets his head rest in the gap between their pillows for a while. He takes deep breaths in the comforting scent of the sheets, of his own bedroom and the detergent that got used by whomever last had laundry duty, the familiarity of being in his own space, and the fondness of sharing that space with Dirk’s warmth.

He keeps his hand over Dirk’s cock, feeling out the head with his thumb where precome is beading up to wet the cloth, and keeps his chest pressed against Dirk’s back, skin to skin, squeezing him in a sideways hug that’s delivered more with the inside of his elbow than anything else.

“Fuck, yeah,” Dirk gasps. He rolls his hips forward, towards Dave’s hand, then back again against his groin. “Yes.”

It’s less poetic than what Dirk would aim for during waking hours, but there’s a freedom that comes with having the lights off. In the easy peace of three in the morning, he’s secure in the knowledge that he won’t be judged for any sounds he makes, or for expressing neediness.

Dave exhales hot against the space between the pillows, and doesn’t appreciate how clammy it makes his face feel. He lifts his head again to duck it to Dirk’s shoulder, and resumes kissing on him. There’s a spot on his trapezius, as it crosses down from Dirk’s neck and tenses, sensitive, that Dave can’t resist spending extra time upon. He sucks at his skin, with occasional licking and even less frequent nipping, until there’s no way it won’t leave a mark in the morning.

Dirk reaches behind himself to fumble for Dave, to run his palm along Dave’s ribs and slip his fingers just beneath the waistband of his boxers, to feel the musculature of his back as it transitions into the curve of his ass. He pushes on Dave’s back, urging him to stay solidly spooning him. With his other hand, he grasps at the sheets, to have something clenched in his fist. Dave rubs his thumb in coaxing circles at the underside of Dirk’s dick, just shy of the head, slowly encouraging him to leak a little more.

[ ](https://66.media.tumblr.com/44537c23c5ce5b7b76287d7928008a93/tumblr_ocaacxNfAl1qm5fm6o1_1280.png)

“ _God_ , Dave,” he huffs. “God, I want to suck you off.”

Dave bites at the delicate skin behind Dirk’s ear, then at his earlobe. “You wanna?”

Dirk nods, bucking his hips. “Yeah, fuck.”

“You got it.”

Dave licks at Dirk’s shoulder, at the mark he made that’s barely visible in the low light, and starts to jack him off rather than teasing him. His thumb finds its way against his skin through the fly in his boxers. He pauses his movements only to unbutton the button hidden within Rainbow Dash’s fucking face, then slides his fingers inside to brush over Dirk’s skin. He trails his fingertips up the length of him, upward to smear the slickness of his precome over his glans where it’s welling within his foreskin.

“ _Dave!_ ” It’s a desperate whine of the word that Dirk wouldn’t allow himself to vocalize if he didn’t feel utterly safe, and his name transitions into a series of needy sounds that are higher pitched than his typical speaking voice.

“Damn, dude,” Dave says, and that says it all.

His bangs aren’t longer than Dirk’s, but they’re rarely swept back, and they’re currently falling over his face to brush soft and slightly ticklish against the back of Dirk’s neck. Dave presses a few more hasty, open-mouthed half kisses, half licks onto Dirk’s shoulder before letting go of him with a final squeeze to his dick. He pulls his hand away and pulls back, with Dirk following his movements immediately to roll over and swing his thigh over Dave’s hip and frot against him through their underwear.

Dave lifts his hands to thread through Dirk’s hair and hold his jaw in place as Dirk nudges his mouth to Dave’s, his lips parted, exhaling hotly between messy kissing. Dirk’s stubble is rough on Dave’s fingers, despite the calluses, from forgetting for a day or two. Dave’s unshaven by choice, just plain not fuckin’ feeling like it, and the scratchiness of it catches on Dirk’s face when he nuzzles against Dave’s cheek and jawline. Dirk keeps his chin tucked against Dave’s shoulder as he ruts down against him in slow, shallow motions.

They’re in no hurry and under no time constraints, despite the uninhibited urgency in wanting to make each other and themselves feel good in a general sense. Sweat drips down from Dirk’s temple, along his jawline, and Dave impulsively licks it away from his stubble. 

“You wanna suck my dick?” Dave kisses at the corner of Dirk’s mouth, and Dirk bites Dave’s lower lip and holds it between his teeth before letting him speak again. “You wanna fuckin’ suck me off?”

“Yeah, god,” Dirk murmurs. He parts his lips to touch his tongue to Dave’s, wet and warm and tasting like nothing in particular, and a thrill runs through the pit of his stomach as Dave licks at his mouth. “God, I want to suck you.”

Dave reaches for Dirk’s ass and squeezes at him as he urges him towards his hips, as Dave pushes back just as insistently. “If you wanna turn your fantasy into a sensual reality, all you gotta do is do it.”

Dirk needs very little prompting, and hikes his boxers down to his thighs to free his erection. They’re in a tangled heap of clothing and blankets and limbs, as Dave copies the motion to shove his underwear away and make himself accessible to Dirk. Dirk licks around in his own mouth to work up a spit, and drools onto his palm before slickening himself up and spreading his saliva onto Dave, too, to grasp both of their dicks together and stroke them in tandem.

Dave lets out a pleasured sigh and angles his hips towards Dirk’s efforts. The lubrication of Dirk’s spit won’t last long, but it’s enough to ease the friction to a satisfying level that doesn’t chafe just yet. Dirk spits into his hand again and smears it over the heads of their dicks, then takes a moment to gently roll their foreskins back to rub his glans directly against Dave’s, his fingers tight around them both as his elbow digs into the bed.

It’s almost too much. Dave’s hips jerk as a reflex. He reaches for Dirk’s upper arm, digs his thumb appreciatively into the toned muscle of his bicep, and sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Fuckin’ A.”

“Fuck,” Dirk agrees. “God, yeah, fuck.”

Dave runs his hand down Dirk’s arm, down to where his forearm is currently shaved more meticulously than his face, and brings Dirk’s free hand around to rest on Dave’s hip. Dirk takes the hint and slides his hand down to palm a handful of Dave’s ass, his pinky butting up against the waistband of his boxers.

“I’ma take those off,” Dave mumbles, but makes no move to do so. Instead, he thrusts his cock against Dirk’s, reveling in the hard press of his erection and the subtle beat of his pulse, the slickened slide of spit and precome as Dirk guides his glans in a soft, continuous spiral on Dave’s, sensitive and slow. 

Dirk’s back to making needy sounds, his face completely flushed, sweated up with the heat of Dave’s body and their bed linens. He gasps out an “oh, god” and speeds up his circling until Dave’s flexing his toes and feeling the thrill of it in the tension of his calves.

“Dude, please,” Dave urges. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Dirk breathes, exhaling against Dave’s lips. “Yes.”

Dave kisses him, and Dirk kisses back without any agenda other than feeling Dave’s lips and tongue on his own. He keeps his hand moving, squeezing and stroking at both of them until his wrist and elbow are tired from being trapped against the bed. Reluctant to stop, he pulls back anyway and makes it halfway down between them before he reconsiders and lowers his mouth to Dave’s chest.

Dave rolls onto his back, completely, and lets Dirk lap at his nipple and lick the sweat off his chest. 

“I like when we’re like this,” Dave says, with his toes curled into the sheets and his dick arced back against his abs. “I like how you lick on me.”

Dirk lets out an appreciative hum and circles his tongue on Dave’s nipple until Dave starts squirming and pushing the ball of his foot into the mattress. He brushes his fingers through Dirk’s hair, encouraging, trying to watch his tongue lapping over his skin despite the low light. Dirk keeps his right elbow braced against the bed, and lifts his left hand to stroke along Dave’s length again. With the extra attention, Dave shudders and thrusts wantonly into Dirk’s fist, his hand gently cradling the back of Dirk’s head.

There’s no announcement before Dirk moves downward, and Dave’s left with the air evaporating Dirk’s saliva off his chest and zero interstitial stomach kisses before Dirk’s mouth is on his dick. Dirk braces his hand on Dave’s hip and sucks on him, eagerly, the stimulation in his mouth making him salivate more and smoothing the wet slide of his lips over Dave’s skin. 

“Ohhh, _fuck_ yes.” Dave raises his hips towards Dirk’s mouth, and Dirk responds by slurping on him even more loudly, unperturbed by the press of Dave’s dick against his soft palate. “ _God_ , suck me off, dude, fuckin’...”

Dirk slides down even further and tugs Dave's boxers down his legs and completely off, then paws at Dave’s hip until he rolls back onto his side. Dirk gets his head between Dave’s thighs and takes his dick as far as he can, his nose in his pubic hair, Dave’s balls against his chin and lower lip. Dave struggles to keep his thigh raised, but as time ticks by he’s getting shakier. Dirk solves the problem by looping his arm out and around to hold Dave’s leg and encourage him to close it and rest against his head as he sucks him down.

Dave grasps onto his pillow for some semblance of leverage, with his cheek pushed against its plushness for support. He can’t entirely see what Dirk’s up to, but his tongue is quick and hot as he licks at the underside of his dick and keeps up the suction around the full length of him every time he swallows.

“You’re gonna make me come so fast,” Dave praises, almost overwhelmed. “I’m gonna fuckin’ shoot my load down your throat and come so hard.”

Dirk digs his fingers into Dave’s thigh and bobs his head as well as he can from the limited angle. He moves his hand to tease along the cleft of Dave’s ass and traces his fingertips at his taint, then his asshole, and continues rubbing at him as he moves his mouth. 

“Jesus.” Dave lets his eyes fall closed as he breathes out and focuses on the persistent attention Dirk is bathing him in. “I’d ask where you learned that but I know who all you get practice on.”

Dirk laughs at that, highly pleased with himself, and pulls his mouth off to breathe normally for a minute. “Don’t they get practice on you, too?”

“Sort of, yeah, but not with those teeth, my dude.” Dave basks in a rush of warm that floods his chest and settles in at his temples, at the nape of his neck, from the heady feeling of dwelling on ample affection. “But hey, I do a real fuckin’ bang up job of eating guys out, these days.”

“After years of honing your skills?” Dirk’s still tired, his eyes mildly irritated from being awakened during a REM stage, but he’s been active long enough that he’s making jokes again. “You earn any kind of title from that?”

“Ass Master,” Dave answers. “Muncher of Butts. Cornhole Ass-acre. Derriere Delicatessen.” 

“That last one sounds extra iffy.”

“As if your ass isn’t a delicacy I’m getting served.”

Dirk looks up at him in the dark. Dave’s eyes are half-lidded, although he can barely make out his facial features. “Is that an offer?”

“A limited edition special order that yours truly is up and ready to place as soon as this fine dining establishment is open for business.”

Dirk snorts. “I think you’re mixing your metaphors.”

Dave sighs melodramatically, although his smile is just barely perceptible in the dim light. “If you feel like swinging your butt up here, I can take care of you while you take care of me.”

“So long as you don’t compare my genitalia to deli meats.”

Dave feigns exasperation and sighs again before replying. “I’m aiming to provide excellent customer service by way of licking your butthole. May I lick your butthole, good sir?”

Amused, Dirk finally takes the time to pull his own underwear down and off, kicking at them to shake them off when they get caught on his foot. The blankets are useless at this point; it's too damn hot. He shoves all of the covers away into a pile at the foot of the bed before shifting his position to face the other way. He braces his knees on either side of Dave’s shoulders. “Yes, you may.”

“I’ll eat your ass and savor every moment.” Dave slides his hands up along Dirk’s thighs. “With relish.”

“That’s it.” Dirk settles himself above Dave’s torso, his elbows likewise on either side of Dave’s thighs, faced with his dick. “I’m gonna start comparing your junk to every phallic food imaginable.”

Dave presses a kiss to Dirk’s inner thigh. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would. [Starting with a geoduck.](http://www.cracked.com/blog/7-phallic-foods-ranked-their-dong-like-properties/)”

Dave scoffs. His breath is hot against Dirk’s skin. “My dong is way more attractive than a geoduck.”

Dirk licks a wet stripe up along Dave’s erection and speaks against him. “Dude, what were we just talking about before bed, about not fuckin’ insulting somebody’s appearance?”

“You’re literally using the geoduck’s appearance to insult my manly manhood.” Dave presses his palms against Dirk’s asscheeks and squeezes. “I’m gonna die.”

“What do you want on your tombstone?”

“[Peperony and chease.](http://mentalfloss.com/article/21690/quick-10-oregon-trail-computer-game)”

“Okay, well. I’m ordering sausage.”

“Fuck you, dude.”

Dirk smiles to himself, and kisses Dave’s dick. “That’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“Gonna compare your bunghole to calamari.” Dave runs the pad of his thumb from Dirk’s taint, up to tease at his anus for emphasis. “Roll up my tongue back here like it’s _Calamari_ Damacy.”

“You’re on such a gaming kick tonight.” Dirk moves his fingers down to cup Dave’s balls in his hand. “What’s the inspiration?”

“Probably that you’re the prince of my cosmos.” Dave spreads his legs more widely, to ease a cramp in his thighs and let knees rest as close to the mattress as he can. “Or one of several in paradox space, at least.”

“Yeah, whatever’s left of it.” Dirk sneaks a finger down to stroke a fingertip along Dave’s taint. “You know what?”

“What?”

“People ought to be nicer to dicks.”

“I have always been nice to dicks.” Dave reaches underneath Dirk’s stomach to take his erection in hand, and gently pats it. “Who’s being mean to dicks?”

Dirk shrugs as well as he can while still holding his weight up. “Somebody, probably.”

“You’re being real nice to my dick. My dick is like, ready to ask you to marry it.”

Dirk laughs, self-conscious. “I’ll, uh.” He kisses Dave’s glans in a way that could be described as chaste if it didn’t involve sex organs. “I’ll buy it a cock ring?”

“Take it out for dinner and a movie first.” Dave flexes his PC muscle to tap his dick against Dirk’s lips, and they both laugh.

The conversation has Dirk feeling somewhat light-headed from affection, too, and he smiles as he guides the head of Dave’s erection back towards his tongue. It’s easier to take him into his mouth, this way; he’s angled to arc along his tongue and towards the curve of his mouth and throat. Dirk shifts his weight to make himself comfortable and works up a spit so he can gradually increase his speed.

Dave takes the break in discussion as his cue to work Dirk’s ass beneath his hands. He sweeps his thumbs inward, towards his taint, and enjoys the limited view of Dirk’s dick hanging between his legs, touched to Dave’s chest. Emboldened by their privacy and how Dirk’s already going to town on him, Dave lifts his head to kiss his ass and wind his way inward. When he finally licks across Dirk’s asshole, it earns him a relieved moan around his dick. With his legs wobbling from holding himself up, Dirk settles his weight back into Dave’s waiting hands, his knees digging into the mattress as he relaxes.

Their simultaneous stimulation starts a positive feedback loop, with each of them increasingly turned on by virtue of moving their tongues on each other, pleased to reciprocate. While neither of them are opposed to giving head for the sake of it, the mutual enjoyment is hardly something they’re going to complain about. Dirk keeps one hand stroking back and forth on Dave’s dick as he uses his other hand to rub and press beneath his balls. The more he sucks on him, the more Dave’s scrotum tightens, and Dirk trails his fingertips over it and cups at him to encourage it, his tongue fluttering against him when he’s got the energy, and simply holding him in his mouth when he needs to rest, or when Dave’s attentions on his ass are too distracting.

Dave, in turn, kneads his fingers into Dirk’s asscheeks and licks flatly up from his taint to his asshole, across the short hair that Dirk tries to keep trimmed, and the stray ones that scissors missed. He tongues at him in short flicking motions, then longer lapping, and sucks another hickey into the skin of his inner thigh, his stubble scratchy against him. His efforts are everywhere at once with whatever feels best, until he has to pull back and pant against the traces of his saliva on Dirk’s skin when Dirk starts gripping his fist more tightly and sucking in swift, slightly twisting bobs of his head. 

“Fuck, dude, I’m gonna come.” Dave licks at Dirk’s ass again, thumbs pressing into the solid muscle of his thighs. “ _Fuck_ , Dirk!”

Dirk slides his finger through a glob of saliva that’s resting in Dave’s pubic hair, drooled down from Dirk’s lips on his dick, and glides it down over Dave’s taint to rub at his asshole. He jerks him off, moving his spit-slicked palm and his wet lips to slide in tandem over his cock, with extra pressure on each upswing. When Dave moans, Dirk can feel it against his ass, and he shifts his hips backward towards Dave’s mouth while sucking him down. 

Dave is increasingly loud, and lets out a series of shallow, panting sounds as his toes curl, as his hamstrings go taut. To get better leverage, Dirk raises himself off Dave’s stomach, his erection still pointed down towards Dave’s sternum and brushing against him as he moves. Dave makes a noise that would almost sound pained if Dirk didn’t know better, and he can feel Dave’s hips move beneath him to thrust towards Dirk’s mouth, his abs clenching with his orgasm. 

Dirk takes the first spurt onto his tongue, sucking consistently, with two fingers curled and curved to press over Dave’s asshole and taint. He then pulls his mouth off with a wet sound and moves his hand to direct Dave’s ejaculate towards his body, angled back and jacking him with constant, tight pressure as Dave comes in hot bursts onto Dirk’s chest.

“Fuck!” Dave gasps, desperate for breath. “Ahhh, god.”

Dirk pumps at him until he’s completely spent, and ducks his head down to lick away what remains of his jizz, his tongue gentle on his urethra. Dave shivers as Dirk’s tongue crosses his glans, hypersensitive; Dirk grins against his skin and kisses him delicately.

“Oh my god, dude, you’re so fucking good at that,” Dave says, gushing praise. “Fuckin’ shit.”

Dirk licks at him, prompting another shudder. “I really, really like sucking your dick.”

Dave closes his eyes, his head heavy on his pillow. “It is hella obvious.”

“Mmm.” Dirk lets his weight rest on Dave’s body again, and rests his head on Dave’s thigh. Dave’s dick remains at eye level. He watches him gradually start to lose his erection. “Life goals, right? Do what you love.”

“Or do _who_ you love.”

“A dick-sucking Venn diagram.”

Dave pats Dirk’s ass affectionately. “For you, that’s a perfect circle, ain’t it?”

Dirk blows a raspberry onto his leg.

Dave laughs freely and rubs at Dirk’s back. “Okay, if you wanna, like...” It’s somehow more embarrassing to describe this request than to narrate the lead-up to his own climax, but he manages. “If you wanna sit on my chest, I’ll suck your dick, too.”

“Twist my arm a bit more.” Dirk sits up, his chest sticky, and climbs off Dave long enough to stretch his legs. Sweat clings to the underside of his knees, and he’s still sore from waking up this early, but it’s worth it by far. He straddles Dave’s chest and looks down at him as Dave runs his hands up along Dirk’s thighs and beams up at him. 

“Hey, dude,” Dave says.

“Hey, you.” Dirk brushes Dave’s bangs out of his face. 

Dave grimaces. “Gross, you just touched some guy’s dong.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Dirk uses his short fingernails to scratch into Dave’s sideburns and down his jaw. “Who knows where that’s been?”

“Insufferable pricks never wind up anywhere good,” Dave says, solemnly.

Dirk holds Dave’s face in the curve of his hand. “I beg to differ.”

“Wow, lame.” Dave tilts his head to kiss Dirk’s palm. “That kinda attitude get you laid?”

“I am actually a virgin, for your information.”

“Then I’m about to blow your damn mind.”

“You’re about to blow _something_.”

Dave pets at Dirk’s legs, up along his hips. “Waiting on you, yo.”

“Oh yeah?” Dirk runs his thumb over Dave’s eyebrow, his as bushy in contrast as Dirk’s are meticulously tweezed. “How so?”

“Place phallus into oral cavity.” Dave shakes his head, feigning disgust. “Failed step one.”

Dirk moves his hand away from Dave’s face to get a loose hold on his dick, and taps the head against Dave’s lips.

Dave stares up at him expectantly.

“Okay, what am I fucking up?” Dirk asks. “You want me to do something and I’m not catching on.”

“Speak friend and enter.”

Dirk rolls his eyes. “What the fuck is with the Tolkien jokes in this house lately?”

Dave purses his lips, trying not to laugh.

“ _Mellon._ ” Dirk prods at Dave’s mouth again. Precome sticks to Dave’s bottom lip where it’s leaked out from Dirk flagging. 

“Open fuckin’ sesame, Frodo.” Dave parts his lips and licks at the underside of Dirk’s glans. “I’ll suck your Elijah Wood.”

“Dude, what?” 

“Not my fault Gandalf forgot his fuckin’ password.”

Dirk keeps his hand on his dick, to keep it angled down towards Dave rather than upward, where it’s inclined to go. “Nothing gets me harder than Middle Earth tech support jokes.”

“I know, and that is why I am making them.” Dave’s voice is deadpan, but judging by his expression, he’s hugely entertained. “But this is _stutid_ and I’m gonna shut up and actually blow you.”

Dirk laughs, a little under his breath. “Okay.”

Without saying anything else, Dave closes his eyes and slides his lips across Dirk’s erection, his mouth mostly closed but with his breath escaping in his exhalations. He lets Dirk softly guide his glans along the line of his mouth before pursing his lips to kiss at him.

There’s a tightness in Dirk’s chest that he never wants to stop feeling. When he speaks, it’s hushed. “What’re you doing?”

Dave glances up at him in the dark. “I’m being nice to dicks.”

“Ah.” With the way Dave’s looking at him, Dirk almost feels guilty for their position making it too awkward to kiss him. “Okay.”

Dave lifts his head further to take Dirk onto his tongue, with his fingertips resting reassuringly on his hips, brushing the pads of his thumbs in circles over his obliques. He laves the tip of his tongue back and forth beneath his frenulum, where Dirk’s foreskin is rolled back just enough to access it.

Dirk shivers, with warmth spreading over his entire body, already sweated up as much as he’s worked up. He uses his free hand to carefully support the back of Dave’s head, to ease the strain on his neck even a small amount. “God.”

“Mm.” Dave sucks him into his mouth completely, and continues to lick at the interior of Dirk’s foreskin. He draws out the noise to the point of absurdity. “Mmmmmmm.”

Dave’s voice gives Dirk the same pleasant tightness in his ribcage. He scritches at Dave’s scalp with his fingernails. “That good, huh?” he asks, quietly.

Dave either nods or bobs his head or both, and takes him in further with soft suction. He keeps one hand on Dirk’s hip, and moves the other to slide his fingers past the sweat at his tailbone and down the cleft of his ass to press his fingertip against his anus. 

Dirk sighs, feeling spoiled, and maintains his support for Dave’s neck. He can feel him straining; the tension in his muscles is apparent and palpable.

“You all right?” he asks, unsure.

As soon as Dirk’s spoken, Dave pulls back and lets his head rest on the pillow again. “That’s crazy hot but yeah no, my neck’s feeling it.”

“Hey, no worries.” Dirk does his best to comb Dave’s hair with his fingers into something less messy. “Thanks for trying.”

“Ain’t done with you yet.” Dave pets down from Dirk’s thigh to his knee. “Unless you’re too tired.”

“I’m getting pretty tired,” Dirk admits. “But I still kinda want to come.”

“I got you, dude.” 

“What’s gonna be easier on your neck?”

Dave moves his hand from Dirk’s thigh to pat at the bed. “You wanna lie down like we’re sixty-nining dickwise?”

“Sure.” Dirk climbs off him and lies down opposite Dave, and takes the opportunity to run his hand along Dave’s shin and smooth down his hair. He pillows his head on his elbow, his arm crooked back to support himself. “You good?”

Dave rests his palm along the curve of Dirk’s hip and shifts inward towards his crotch. “I’m the best.”

“Undisputed champion of blowjobs.”

“Along with my many other aforementioned titles.” Dave licks at Dirk’s erection, upside-down, unable to get a consistent movement without using his hands. He pets more at Dirk’s hip anyway. “Don’t sell yourself short, though.”

Dirk busies himself with running his fingertips lightly up and down Dave’s legs. “I will sell myself tall.”

Dave moves his fingers down to grip Dirk’s dick and guide it towards his mouth. He sucks on him along with routine, reliable wrist motions, and is rewarded for his efforts with a pleased sigh from Dirk. Lying on the bed doesn’t give him the best leverage, however, and his jaw has to tilt in a way that’s uncomfortable in order to accomplish anything worthwhile. Otherwise, it’s his neck that’s making up for it, and he strains to lift his head high enough off the mattress.

“I fucked up,” Dave says, pulling off. “I’m giving back my championship belt and I forfeit.”

Dirk flexes his toes against his own pillow. “Too tired?”

“Nah, I’m just, like.” He sits up and stretches to work out the crick in his neck. “I suck, or fail at sucking. We gotta switch how we’re arranged again.”

“You don’t suck,” Dirk assures him.

“Man, I know! That’s the damn problem.”

Dirk shifts back to sit closer to Dave, his pillow at the small of his back, his hands braced on the mattress to support himself and his legs stretched out and parted. “It’s okay with me if you want to go back to sleep,” he says.

Determined, Dave situates himself between Dirk’s thighs. By lying down on his stomach, he’s no doubt gotten semen onto the sheets, but it’s hardly anything new in Dave’s bed. They’ll deal with it in the morning. 

He gets a grasp around the base of Dirk’s erection, but otherwise holds still. “I’m in this for the long haul so long as you still want me to.”

“I still want you to,” Dirk confirms. “I just don’t know how much longer I can keep my eyes open.”

Dave turns his head to the side to kiss Dirk’s thigh. “You wanna hold off until morning?”

Dirk bites his lip, and looks down at Dave’s head between his legs, his bangs mussed in front of his forehead. “I might have an idea.”

Dave lets go of him and lifts his hand to brush his hair away from his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I, uh.” Dirk allows himself to savor the familiar heat of flirting with Dave as it curls through his stomach. “If I fall asleep, I want you to keep blowing me.”

Dave mulls this over for a moment, and kisses his thigh again. “I’m game if you are, but only if you’re totally sure.”

“I am.” There’s sweat on his palms as he presses them flat to the sheets. “I am one hundred percent sure.”

“Not one eleven?” Dave wags his eyebrows. “Eleventy one?”

Dirk smiles in the darkness. “Also that. But seriously, I’m giving you the complete go-ahead to continue touching me. I want you to.”

“This is from how much time you spent goofing around as your dream self, man,” Dave says, nuzzling his cheek to Dirk’s knee. “You want me to literally blow you in your dreams.”

Dirk hesitates, thinking back to their brief trial run with breathplay, and how cautious Dave had been. “This isn’t freaking you out, is it?”

Dave shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Ah.” Dirk tightens his fingers in the sheets. “Okay.”

“I think you’re hot.” Dave moves his head back towards Dirk’s erection and kisses the tip of it. “And I’m fuckin’ honored you trust me so much.”

“So, uh.”

“Hm?”

Dirk runs his fingers through Dave’s hair to tuck it behind his ear. “Thanks for not thinking I’m weird.”

“Hey, I never said you _weren’t_ weird,” Dave notes. “We can just be kinda weird together.”

“I want us to be together,” Dirk says.

Dave presses another kiss to the head of his dick. “Ain’t leaving you.”

There’s a moment of near silence. The only sound is the whir of the box fan Dave’s got in the corner of the room, set on a low setting for background noise that doesn’t deafen a conversation. The only light is from Dave’s alarm clock, and the tiny glowing spots that dot the front of their wireless router.

“Dave?” Dirk asks. 

“Yeah?”

Dirk leans forward and curls his arms around Dave, awkwardly from above, intending to let his chin rest on top of Dave’s head. The angle is too difficult to reach, though, and he settles for resting his hands on Dave’s back to pet him between his shoulder blades. Dave lets his cheek rest on Dirk’s thigh, and hugs him around his waist.

“I know,” Dave says, speaking nearly against Dirk’s stomach. “Same.”

Dirk lifts his hand to his mouth and audibly kisses his own palm, then lowers his hand to gently stroke Dave’s hair. “I can’t reach you.”

Dave lets out a deep breath and lets his head fully rest in Dirk’s lap. “It’s okay.”

They spend another while holding each other, with Dirk combing his fingers through Dave’s hair. Dave’s breath hits Dirk’s thigh, steady and contented.

“You still want your dong sucked?” Dave asks, his voice muffled.

Dirk twists a section of Dave’s bangs around his finger, curling the strands slightly. “I’m up for it.”

“Are you?” Dave nudges at Dirk’s dick with his nose.

“I’ll get there.”

“Then allow me to be your Google Map back to Boner City.” Dave kisses at the base of his dick, where it meets his pubes, and lifts himself up enough to get his hand around him. He squeezes at him, where he’s gone somewhat flaccid; precome dribbles out, and Dave laps it away.

“You’re hot,” Dirk says. 

“You are like a Go-Gurt,” Dave replies, slowly pumping at his length, feeling him gradually swell within his hand. “I want to slurp on you while doing extreme sports.”

Dirk laughs. “This is the dirty talk I’m here for.”

“Lose the spoon.” Dave takes him into his mouth and tongues at his foreskin, coaxing him back to hardness.

“There is no spoon.” Dirk resumes petting his hair as Dave goes down on him. “What pumpkin, whatever.”

Dave jacks him off next to his cheek. “If there’s no spoon, then you successfully lost it.” 

Dirk moves his hand down from Dave’s hair and back to his shoulder, to dig his thumb into his muscle. “I don’t have a comeback for that.”

“How about I just make you come?”

Dirk squeezes at Dave’s shoulder. “That’s good, too.”

Dave stops talking, and shifts slightly onto his side to make the angle easier on his neck as he sucks him into his mouth again. The extended session has him somewhat worn out, but he still wants to help Dirk get off, and his earlier orgasm doesn’t dull the satisfaction of feeling Dirk’s erection filling his mouth, his skin soft and delicate on his tongue. He keeps his hand in a fist around the base, holding him steadily, and moving his lips back and forth to establish a regular pace.

Dirk tenses his fingertips on Dave’s shoulder, curls in towards him, unable to get a genuine thrust going with his current position. He doesn’t want to choke him, anyway, and lets his increasingly restless tension out by holding onto the solid muscle of Dave’s bicep.

“Dave,” he says, and Dave swallows around him to match the pleasant sinking heat he feels when his name leaves Dirk’s lips in a breathy rush, as a direct result of what he’s doing for him.

“Mmm.” Dave speeds up to give him extra stimulation. 

Dirk holds onto his arm, flexing his fingers as he lets out a string of sounds he made earlier, previously too fuzzy with sleep to be embarrassed, but now too eager to orgasm to worry about it.

Dirk’s needy, gasped “ah!” noises are all Dave needs to spur him on, with his tongue flicking at his frenulum, sucking lewdly on his spit-slicked head, pumping him consistently. He keeps his rhythm and listens as Dirk gets louder, as his hips shift on the mattress in an effort to get closer, as his back curves and he’s bent over Dave, clinging to him, shuddering.

“Please,” Dirk begs. His knees tremble on either side of Dave’s body, reflexively. “Please, god, I’m so close, I just want to come.”

Dave sucks hard on him before pulling off, his lips lingering. He speaks against his own saliva. “You wanna lie down?”

Dirk nods, and allows himself to lie back on the mattress. It’s difficult to relax with how worked up he is, but he knows where Dave’s going with this, and Dirk’s always been one for edging, to begin with. With tremendous effort, he takes deep breaths and wills himself to calm down, to settle the coiled, clenching heat in his abs that’s about to tip over into a climax.

“So here’s my plan,” Dave says, leaning over Dirk’s legs and petting at his hip. “You get all cozy and chill, and I keep on keepin’ on with the dick licking if you conk out, as requested.”

Dirk looks at him in the darkness and has sufficiently less luck convincing his heart to stop the incredibly sappy beat-skipping shit he can’t quite quell. “Sounds awesome.”

“And I reserve the right to stop sucking your dick and go on a date with the sandman myself if I get too tired.”

“Yeah, dude.” Dirk reaches for his hand. Dave laces their fingers together, over Dirk’s stomach. “Of course.”

Dave squeezes at his hand. “If the sandman soirée transpires, I promise to cuddle the shit out of you.”

Dirk inhales and exhales, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, the expansion of his lungs, to fixate on calming himself. “Cuddles are always good. Shitting the bed, less so.”

“Nasty.” Dave lets go of his hand and shakes his head. “You’re nasty.”

Dirk sticks his tongue out at him.

Dave props himself up enough to rub his hands along Dirk’s thigh, down to his knee and underneath his leg to work his fingers into the muscle of his calf. “Try to relax, man. I got this.”

It’s ticklish at first, but Dirk focuses on his breathing and lets Dave take care of him. Dave’s hands are warm and gentle, and he works out the weariness in Dirk’s limbs one at a time. Dirk’s shins are almost as smooth as his arms, prickly from going a day without maintenance, and Dave admires the way his skin feels under his hands. 

WIth his eyes closed, Dirk exhales even more slowly, and speaks in near disbelief. It still seems too good to be true. “You’re so nice to me.”

“I wanna make shit nice for you.” Dave shifts his position to sit up further, and reaches to run his hands down from Dirk’s upper arm to his wrist, taking extra time to work each of Dirk’s fingers between his thumb and index finger, massaging and soothing him. “You deserve it.”

Dirk makes a pleased sound, with a small, sleepy smile, and enjoys the cool touch of the pillowcase on the back of his neck. He’s heavy, sinking, enveloped in the security of the shared quiet, with the fan’s white noise washing away the scattered thoughts that would otherwise distract his attention away from Dave’s affection. He flexes his fingers towards Dave’s hand; the weight of his arm seems too much to keep elevated.

Dave sets Dirk’s right arm down and, still sitting between Dirk’s legs, scoots towards his other side to repeat the massage on his left arm. There’s diminishing assistance in lifting Dirk’s arm, to the point that Dave uses one hand to support him at the elbow while rubbing at his muscle with the other. He watches as Dirk’s breathing evens out, as his face relaxes and his eyelashes stay fluttered still on his cheekbones. Even now, years after the game, it’s rare to see him this peaceful, although the times he’s truly on edge are thankfully less frequent the more he becomes accustomed to having someone steadfast by him when he’s asleep, sure of his safety as he rests.

Dave finishes massaging Dirk’s fingers and lifts his wrist upward to press a kiss to the back of his hand. He keeps his voice low, to inquire but not startle him. “Dirk?”

There’s no response, and Dirk’s chest continues to rise and fall slowly with each breath. Dave rubs his thumb over Dirk’s knuckles before laying his arm back down on the bed. He settles himself down and tries his best not to shift the mattress too much.

With his head laid on Dirk’s hip, Dave looks up at him and tries again. “Dirk?”

He still gets no reply. Dave listens to the sound of the fan and feels protective, but strangely alone, like he’s the only one awake for standing guard and taking watch. As one of two time players in their household, however, he’s sure he’s well suited for that. 

On the other hand, _alone_ is relative; he wouldn’t consider himself to be alone if he and Dirk were both asleep, side by side in his bed. Dirk hasn’t gone anywhere. They’re still with each other, so maybe that fleeting instant of isolation is irrational.

He rests in the quiet for a minute, with his cheek pressed to Dirk’s pelvis and his arms around him in a loose hug, with his forearms resting on the mattress. His feet are dangling off the end of the bed, and the fan sends air circulating past his toes. 

The stillness of his bedroom is so enticing that Dave is tempted to go straight to sleep, himself, but he knows if he nods off like this his back is going to be jacked up in the morning. Besides, if this is what Dirk wants him to do, he at least wants to give indulging him a try.

Dave lifts his head and kisses the spot where Dirk’s hip is most prominent, and whispers against his skin. “I got you.”

He trails his fingertips up along Dirk’s sides a few times before settling his palms on his hips. With utmost care, Dave lowers his head back to Dirk’s erection and kisses it, halfway down the shaft, before licking from the middle up to the head. He lets his tongue press down more fully as he swipes up, just before his glans, and then repeats the motion, from lightest to light, taking his tongue back into his mouth every so often to wet it again. 

Dirk makes a satisfied sound, and his hips lift towards Dave’s mouth. Dave takes it as a good sign and keeps going with long laps of his tongue, wet and warm, his hands still petting at Dirk’s hips and thighs.

“Is that good?” Dave asks, unsure at first if it’s to himself or to Dirk’s residual awareness. “Does this feel good?”

But Dirk makes no verbal acknowledgement, only tilts his head to the side to press his cheek into his pillow. Dave shifts to lie on his side and pull his feet up onto the bed, his legs not quite tucked under him, and rests his left palm at the base of Dirk’s dick to guide him towards his tongue.

“I hope it does,” he says, reminded of how many one-sided Pesterchum conversations he’s had in his life. “I hope this is giving you hella good dreams.”

He strokes at Dirk’s erection, encouraged by Dirk occasionally letting out a breathy sigh or raising his hips towards his hand. It’s impossible to know for sure, and it’s only for Dirk asking him outright to do _exactly_ this that he’s continuing to touch him without current approval. “Like Gwen Stefani levels of hella good.”

He wishes he could have no doubt that Dirk’s enjoying it, but without being able to ask, he has to trust in Dirk’s request. The trust is the point of it. He kisses Dirk’s stomach, into the hair that trails up to his navel, and knows resolutely that Dirk _does_ trust him. The depth of Dirk’s confidence in him generates enough butterflies in his stomach to grant god tier status to a fucking army of troll ghosts. For Dirk to cede control so completely is powerful in and of itself, and Dave smiles. This is a special, fragile thing, and he’s both flattered and flustered to be asked to be here.

Dave closes his eyes and lets himself zone out into the gentle motions of caressing Dirk’s dick and alternating among kissing, licking, and lightly sucking at the head. His hand continues to idly stroke at his hip and thigh, occasionally running his fingernails over his skin with the faintest pressure. It’s just him, the box fan, and the slow, deep breaths that Dirk is taking. He allows himself to appreciate the peace in Dirk’s posture, to assure himself that the total relaxation was the whole reason Dirk wanted this in the first place, to dedicate himself to fulfilling that fantasy for him when Dirk can’t do it on his own. It’s hot to help him out.

Dirk’s vaguely aware of his face and neck feeling flushed, of sweat clinging to his skin and sticking his bedsheets to his back, and of the wet heat between his legs. For a moment he can’t move, in the sluggishness of an imagined circumstance where he contemplates reaching for something in his dream but can’t seem to complete the motion. He’s having sex with a nonexistent someone, an impression of a person who feels so real in his mind, but fades to objectively nothing the harder he tries to get a clear view of their face, as impossible as keeping track of words he’s written or books he’s reading in the normal dreams he’s had since completing their session. Whoever it is, they’re tangled up with him, letting him fuck them, or fucking his ass, or _something_ that he can’t pinpoint.

It shifts abruptly into a sudden certainty that he _does_ know where he is, and what he’s doing. It’s his sense of smell that swiftly returns to his conscious mind with the knowledge that this is Dave’s room, with the scent of his sweat and his soap on the sheets, and the metallic hint of developer and fixer from his remade closet darkroom. He comes back to consciousness gradually, the organic version of the way each running process of his systems comes online, and he’s overwhelmed by a desperate need to be touched.

He gasps Dave’s name, followed by an inarticulate moan, and then feels uncertain that he’s even successfully opened his mouth to speak at all. He tries again, just in case, still too groggy to feel confident in the words leaving his lips or if he’s even making sense. He knows Dave is with him, and he knows Dave is touching him; his one driving thought is that he needs him to know he knows, and needs him to know not to stop.

Dave’s excited to witness him waking up, and lowers his lips until the full length of him is filling his mouth. He sucks at him harder, his fingernails scratching lightly through his pubic hair and up towards his navel. He’s rewarded with Dirk’s thighs closing around his head, with shallow, graceless thrusting upward onto his tongue. 

Dirk opens his eyes to urgently blink away the bleariness of his vision so he can watch Dave’s head bob up and down along his dick. He’s wet with spit pooling into his pubes, and the sounds Dave’s mouth makes are enough to get Dirk arching his back away from the sweatiness of the sheets, tensing his shoulders, pressing the back of his head into his pillow. He digs his heels into the mattress and whines, strained, and he holds his breath for a half second before Dave laps his tongue just the right way over the head of his dick on the upswing, and Dirk comes with a cry loud enough to wake anyone within earshot.

Dave pets at Dirk’s stomach as he ejaculates, and lets him come in his mouth. Dirk tastes different than the others, in that Dirk tastes closest to Dave himself, and there’s a particular accomplishment he associates with the tingling, basic taste of him on his tongue. He swallows everything, saliva and semen alike, and licks him clean before pulling off entirely. The roof of his mouth and the inside of his cheeks hold the flavor of him.

Dave licks at his teeth.

“God,” Dirk sighs, bone tired. “God, Dave.”

Dave’s lips are mildly swollen from the amount of oral he’s given, and he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Was it good for dream Dirk, too?”

Dirk nods and reaches for him with his eyes closed, and Dave nearly collapses into his arms, sinking heavily against his side and cuddling up to him as Dirk pulls him into a tight embrace. They both lean in for a kiss, and despite its complete sloppiness, it’s the most effective way to sum up the experience at four in the morning.

“I love you,” Dave says, as he brushes Dirk’s bangs away from his face and cups his cheek. “And I am so fuckin’ tired.”

Dirk lifts his head to close the scant distance between them and kiss Dave again, tasting himself several times over. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Dave agrees, and with that, he settles in to spoon him like before.

* * *

Dirk wakes up for the third time when Dave slides back into bed behind him, the mattress depressing somewhat beneath his weight. Dirk looks over his shoulder and scoots back against Dave’s body, to let him curl his arm across his chest.

“I had to pee,” Dave explains. He kisses Dirk’s neck, over the reddish mark that’s left on his skin from Dave’s earlier efforts.

“Did you sleep okay?” Dirk asks. He yawns, stretches his legs, and relaxes into Dave’s arms. His boxers are discarded near his feet; he prods at them with his toes. The pile of covers remain halfway on the end of the bed, but gravity worked overnight to take them over the edge.

“Yeah. Some sexy fucker hit me up for a booty call halfway through, but yeah, I slept all right.”

Dirk brings his hands up to rub at his face and clear away the corners of his eyes, and makes a sound that’s halfway between satisfied and embarrassed. “God, dude, you were _so_ fucking hot.”

“How about you, man?” Dave rubs his fingertips at the semen that’s dried on Dirk’s chest. There's a wet spot on the bed where Dirk rolled over in his sleep. “You’re the hot mess over here. No wonder you take so many showers.”

Dirk grins. “Whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” Dave teases, petting down from his chest to his stomach and holding him as he speaks. “I cleaned up the eruption from Mount Dirk-Doom. Your team let my admittedly lava-hot flow make a disaster of the area.”

Dirk reaches to hold Dave’s hand, and runs his thumb over Dave’s knuckles. “My department likes getting jizzed on.”

“Yeah, and look at the fuckin’ result. They’re calling in Kelly Clarkson to determine whether or not it can be accurately described as a beautiful disaster, and whether it qualifies for preservation by the National Park Service. Our commander-in-chief is gonna work with federal and state leadership to plan the best course of action. Get FEMA on the scene. See if they can stop being useless.”

Dirk snorts. “I don’t think Obama wants anything to do with your jizz.”

Dave nods against Dirk’s shoulder. “Not the real guy, no. But like, my headcanon Obama. The one who raps. I ship us.”

Sighing happily, Dirk lets his eyes fall closed again and nuzzles against his pillow. “The true OTP.”

“That’s like ATM machine, yo.” Dave presses a kiss to the back of Dirk’s head and breathes in the scent of his hair. “True one true pairing. You suck at shipping science.”

“Maybe I suck so hard, that I'm proud of my suckage.”

“Like Kirby.”

Dirk smiles, hand clasped with Dave’s, not quite ready to get out of bed. “Exactly like Kirby.”


End file.
